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Chapter 16
I jerked upright in bed, panting, disoriented by the sudden glare of light filtering in from my balcony window. I had forgotten to close the curtains last night - forgotten because -
Strong hands gripping my thighs. Hot breath skating along my throat as I panted and whined.
"Good girl."
I gulped, flustered and mortified and utterly shell-shocked. I had… A stray dog barked just beyond my window, the plants on my balcony shivering in the dusky morning breeze.
That - that illusion that I had created last night before I had gone to sleep couldn't have been true. Because the simple fact was that I wasn't the type of girl who got the guy. I wasn't the type of girl that had dreamy men praising them in low, growly tones for coming all over their fingers. That wasn't my life.
I was the type of girl that got up at 3 am every single morning to open a little bakery on the outskirts of the train station. I was the type of girl that let her aunts fuss and nit-pick her into dates and tell her that her clothes were too plain and her makeup was too smudged and her nails were too chipped.
So that morning, I did what I normally did. I opened up my balcony door and checked on all of my plants, ignoring the cluster of curses just across the street, lining a terrace in the apartments there. Odd. Odd that there weren't any lurking around my own balcony. Usually, they loitered just outside my door, chirping and begging like children. But today, miraculously, they were nowhere to be seen.
I put on a podcast and washed my face and made my breakfast with the constant chatter of other people in my ear, unwilling or unable to take in the obvious evidence of the night before.
Like the lingering scent of coffee and metal that seemed to be almost ironed into my couch now.
Like the small circular indents where someone seemed to have been kneeling, spread wide, on my cushions.
Like the slightly blush-light bruises that had formed around my thighs like the softest kiss.
When I shut my door, I felt…shaken. Out of my own body. Unmoored.
"You look well-rested," Riku mused when she slinked through the bakery's front door, looking at the rows of freshly baked goods with mild surprise.
It seemed that moving around in a daze helped my productivity. I had made nearly all of the display case pastries before she had gotten in, a near herculean feat. The sharp smell of espresso cut through the air as I started on a cup, needing a bitter shot of reality.
"What day is it?" I whispered, staring at the slow, black drip of coffee as it hit the plastic cup.
"Tuesday," Riku hummed, pulling her tangerine-colored hair into a bun. She had on bell bottoms today, a deeper autumn color compared to the bright peach of her crop top. Her eyes flicked to me side-long, her expression apprehensive. "Sourdough and sweet tomato bread day. I can make the mix if you're busy."
"No! No. It's-" I stopped, a deep, gravelly chuckle vibrating along my ear. You seem to have a problem asking for help.
He had said that last night. Right before he… I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, taking the shot of pure espresso in one foul gulp. Working like this had gotten me this far. I had gotten my bakery off the ground and made it so that I had a decent chunk of savings in my bank account. It worked - whatever he said, it worked , dammit.
And besides that, it hadn't been so long ago that he had been the one walking into my shop like a zombie. I had seen him when the corporate grind had carved out all of his willingness to believe in others. I saw him in all his slicked-back, organized glory.
It had been fun for him to boss me around last night - I gulped down a breath as I remembered how it had felt. How he had made me beg for it. How his fingers had felt digging into my thighs. Keep that sweet little pussy gushing around me. I pressed my thighs together, alarm shooting through my system at the sudden need to go upstairs and relive last night one more time.
"You don't look as uptight as usual." Riku was suddenly in my face and I gaped, brain whirling at the description. Her eyes narrowed further. "Are you going on runs again in the morning? You passed out the last time you added exercise to your schedule."
"I don't want to think about this," Haruto muttered as he breezed past, running a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. Dark circles hung heavy beneath his eyes. He always reminded me a bit of a kicked puppy, just this side of being found on a street corner.
"Think about what?" Riku inquired, shoving a bottle of water into my hand with a glare. "Drink it. I don't want you passing out before we make the croissants - you know how horrible I am about layering the dough."
"I didn't go for a run," I sigh, grabbing up the espresso and shooting it back with a grimace. It buzzed through my system like drenching myself in ice water. "You know I don't have enough time. Especially now."
I think about how late I got back last night. About - I gulp down half of the bottle of water anyway, the choke of trying to get it down stopping my train of thought.
"Especially now?" Riku inquired softly, her eyes lighting with new interest. Dread seeps through me as I hustle to the back, busying myself with starting the mix for the breads. Riku isn't one to be ignored, though. She follows me, hunching closer like an animal sensing prey. "What does that mean? What new… activities have popped up?"
"I really don't want to listen to this," Haruto whines, dragging on an apron as he goes into the proofing box.
I keep my lips shut.
It feels… It feels like I'm watching the thinnest of line. Like even speaking about what happened last night - it will all become… so much more.
I can feel it already clawing at my insides, starting to hollow out a place inside me for nothing but him. For nothing but what I think he can give me.
The truth is that I've always been greedy. I crave. When I find a meal I like at a restaurant, I eat and eat until I can't stand to look at it anymore. When I find a movie that I love, I watch and watch until I can recite every line, until I see the scenes play across my mind when my eyes aren't even on the screen.
If I wanted an orgasm, I could pull out a vibrator.
What I want - what I crave is him . His entirety. His control and his skin against mine, his mind and words and eyes on me. I would take every piece that he gave me and eat and eat and eat until there was nothing left except his need to escape my clutches.
He didn't sign up for that. He didn't know what he was getting into last night.
"Oh my god, you had sex." The words jolted me out of my thoughts, my fingers pausing as I line up ingredients. "You-"
"No," I say quickly, my cheeks burning as I turn to Riku's gleeful exclamations. "We didn't-"
"We?" she gasps.
"Riku," I snarl a warning.
"Minato?" I whip around at the stern voice, gaping.
My aunt Umi stood stiffly at my front counter, a few customers milling about behind her as they placed pastries on their trays in the quiet of the morning. Tuesdays were usually slow for my shop; everybody lost in the grind of the long week. Umi was by far the most direct of my aunts. She also happened to be the one who seemed the most insistent on my search for a husband.
"Aunt Umi," I greeted, trying not to sound too nervous. Riku and Haruto had instantly ducked into work, slipping away from me with the nervous glances of two people watching another drown and not knowing where a rope was. "What brings you here today?"
"Do I need a reason to visit my niece?" Even as the words left her mouth, she was already dragging out her phone, tapping away. I could count on my hand the number of times my aunties and uncles had actually come to visit me since my parents had passed. They mainly called me - which was fine. I understood how busy their lives were and most of them had families or job obligations. It was easier to call me so that I could go to them.
Dread coiled tightly around every single one of my organs, tightening and tightening until it felt like one breath to the next was my last. Her sharp nails flashed a coral pink that matched her cuticles as she turned the phone fully toward me, the picture on the screen so jarring that a sharp gasp left me.
Staring back at me was a stern-looking Nanami, his eyes narrowed in obvious confusion as I snapped a picture of both of us. I looked wild and small beside him like an animal caught in a trap, my eyes watery and slightly bloodshot from sneezing. The picture. The one I had thought hadn't gone through.
I reached forward before I could even think, trying to snatch it out of my hands like if I just had it within my fingers I would be able to get rid of it.
"Minato," Umi snarled, dodging me easily. Her eyes were dark pools of warning. She deftly put her phone away, her lips thin, brows pinched. "I don't think I have to tell you how startled we were to get that message yesterday."
My throat was dry, my eyes stuck to the purse pocket that she had just tucked her phone into. What else had I sent? My mind raced. Was there any - any message - I shut my eyes. I had sent the date.
"I-" I searched for something to say, heat burning along my neck and cheeks. "I can explain."
Umi waited, her brow raising.
I wanted to say that I was a grown-up. That I was almost thirty and I could make my own decisions. But the similarities in her face suddenly struck me and suddenly I was looking into my dad's face after he had caught me sneaking back in the house.
I gulped down a breath, the similarities crushing all of the words right out of me.
"You're so young," Umi sighed, her face softening in disappointment. She stared at me for a moment longer before sighing again. "How old is he?"
"He's not-" I fumbled. "We're not…like that."
The bruises on my thighs suddenly seemed to burn, an ache starting deep in my gut.
"He looks like a businessman," she said cautiously.
I choked down a snort, keeping my eyes on the top button of her shirt. "We're not like that," I repeated.
And we weren't. He had - he hadn't said anything that would have made me think that he wanted to commit to me.
The minutes ticked on and I couldn't help but grow restless with her silence. Words formed and died in my throat, most of them placating. I felt the strange urge to lie to her, to tell her that I was just embarrassed, that we had actually known each other for months. That would make her happy, wouldn't it?
"You're so beautiful, Minnow," Umi suddenly whispered, reaching forward to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. Her eyes were unflinching as they finally caught mine. "You're wasting all your good years, honey. You know that, don't you? You know that women have trouble starting families after thirty, yes?"
I floundered. I wished I could tell her to mind her own business, to stop talking to me like this. But all that came out was a sound that was far too close to an agreement. I could see the soft triumph in her eyes like my confirmation was all she needed to commit to whatever she had come here to tell me. Like I had agreed to every single thing she thought about me. Had I? Wasn't my silence enough of an agreement?
"The other aunties and I got together a list of eligible men for you, Minnow." I felt the sentence like a slap, her words hitting me like a brick to the face. I gaped, my mouth parting.
"No." It came out soft, uncertain and the look of disappointment that flashed across her face made my lips slam back together.
She looked so much like my father. Her eyes and nose, the slight tilting of her lips. Even the slight accent she had from living in the country when they were younger.
"Yes, Minato," she snapped, and I flinched. "You need this. You're looking older by the day with all this worry and work. You'll be fifty and by yourself before you can blink." She shuddered like that was the worst thought in the world. "We'll send you a list with the dates for your matches by tomorrow." Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, a gentle smile curling her lips as she gave me a fond look. "You've been so brave since your parents died, Minato. Now it's time for you to let someone take some burdens from you."
And then she was leaving with a squeeze to my hands, the jingle of the front door following at her heel.
And I… I went back to work. Silently. Head down. I barely spoke. What could I say?
It was startling how effortlessly Umi had knocked me down, how swiftly she had popped whatever bubble had begun to lift me from the ground. My mind made jumps that I wasn't sure were rational. I thought about my aunties cooing over me when I was little, how that had gotten softer and softer the older I got. The truth was that I had felt that silent judgment right when I hit eighteen. I felt it when I was twenty and still single. I felt the press of their judgment on my nape. When I opened my shop, they asked me if I had plans for a family. When I had gotten my first prize for my baking, they inquired about the timelines of a baby.
Every single accomplishment in my life had been shadowed by that silent, creeping deadline, the click of an invisible clock that had started the moment of my first period. There was a schedule to my adult life that no one had ever spoken of, the clock ticking and ticking and ticking until the people around me grew frantic with the need to silence it. I was suddenly closer to spoiled milk than any other item on the counter. Soon I would be completely undesirable, and I didn't have any clue - I didn't know how to -
"Minato." I blinked, coming back to myself with a gasp. The glass display case shone softly in the night lights of Tokyo, my shop dark and silent. Everyone had left an hour ago, the sign out front reading closed even though I hadn't locked the door yet.
And there was Nanami, his hair mushed, his tie loose around his neck. Every time I saw him, I was struck by the size of him, the way he filled a room with just a glance. It choked every word out of me, the cloth in my hand fluttering to the floor as my fingers loosened. He watched it go, his gaze hard before it dragged up my legs, lingering on the flare of my hips and breasts. Slowly, he reached behind him, the lock clicking into place.
Silence hung between us like a wire pulled too tight.
His lips tugged down. "How long have you been working?"
I blinked, startled. "Since…three…four?"
A tick went off in his jaw. "That's over twelve hours."
"Most people work until nine," I said, quirking a brow.
"Most people are idiots," he snapped, bringing a hand up to tug at his tie until he could tear open the top two buttons of his shirt. His eyes were hard and I couldn't help but feel an odd tug in my belly as he stalked closer, his voice dipping to a low purr. "Your not an idiot, Minato."
I stuttered, stepping back clumsily as he invaded my space, his shoulders hunching in until he blocked out the street lights.
"This is my business," I whispered shakily. My thighs clenched together, a deep ache starting deep inside of me. I liked it when he crowded me. I liked it when he talked to me like that. Like he knew every crevice of my mind. Like he knew he could boss me around.
"We're not talking about your business right now, Minato," he growled, and I gulped down a breath, my heart clenching at the way he said my name. Like a curse. Like a prayer. "We're talking about your health."
He cared , a feeble part of me squealed out, and I gasped, crushing it ruthlessly. Naive. Naive and desperate. I hated that about myself.
My teeth bared, a feral sort of anger lighting in me as I desperately tried to press down that hope. I glared up at him, sneering. "This is none of your business." There was danger in his face as he stared down at me. I barreled on, unwilling or unable to stop myself. "And you can take your concern and shove it up your ass."
Nanami went very still, his eyes trapped on my face. I had made a mistake. Inside I shrank away. He couldn't probably see the moment that I realized flash across my face, my shoulders going up to guard my throat like an animal. My breath was gasping from me, filling the space between us.
His smile was absolutely terrifying. It was all teeth, his eyes darkness, wicked and deep. "Oh really?"
I didn't have time to let out more than a squeak as his palm was suddenly at my throat, his thumb tilting up my chin, the rest of his hand so big that it collared my throat. I felt a thrill zing up my spine, my breath shortening. His teeth flashed down at me, his whole body curling around me. "You are my fucking business, brat." I gulped down a gasp, his fingers tightening in warning. "The minute you begged me to help you, the minute you showed up at that cafe you were my fucking business. Mine . Do you understand me, Minato?" I can't do anything more than blink, fingers fumbling forward blindly, curling in his pressed shirt top. His eyes flash at the movement, his fingers flexing before he releases me and spins me roughly toward the back of my shop. "Go."
He gives me a soft nudge to my lower back, my feet moving an uncertain step forward before I stop. What is he doing? I startle, looking over my shoulder nervously.
"Nanami?" I question, uncertainty making me hesitate.
His eyes soften momentarily before he steps forward, one of his hands going to my hip to squeeze it. "Get to the back, little baker. Otherwise, I'll have to spank that pretty ass in front of all these windows."
Spank? Alarm bells jangle in my ears as I whirl, gaping up at him. "What-"
"You didn't actually think you could mouth off like that and get away with it, did you?" He runs a cool eye over my flounder form.
"You can't expect me to go to the back now." Not knowing that he'll - he would… I blush, staring up at him.
He returns my gaze with cool contemplation, his hands dragging distractingly from my hip to my lower back and down the curve of my ass. Finally, he leans down low, his head tilting so that his lips can ghost along the shell of my ear. "I expect you to consider your options," he murmurs, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. His hand drags up my spine, curling into the hair at the nape of my neck until I gasp. "You have two roads in front of you. You can go in the back and take your punishment for being a mouthy little brat who doesn't know how to take care of herself like a good girl." His nails scrape lightly along my neck as he tightens his hold. "Or I can haul you back there myself and spank your ass until you can't even wear underwear without wincing. And then, while you're panting and begging me to let you come, I'll leave." He pulled away and I felt the cool air like a sting against my flushed skin. He lifted a shoulder slowly. "Your choice."
Choices. He was always so fucking concerned with choices. I hated his stupid choices. I glared at him, flushed from head to toe. Angry…and aroused. So aroused that I could feel myself soaking through my leggings. I remembered how he had made me come yesterday. How he had murmured praises into my throat as I had peaked.
"Dick," I still hissed, turning with as much resentment as I could muster and darting for the back.
"Huffy little liar," he drawled out behind me.
BTW holding this next chapter hostage until I get at least 5 reviews. Love you guyssss